Amore Come Dolore
by JasoTheArtisan
Summary: Quick glances into the sometimes funny, sometimes painful love lives of Soul Society's most notorious inhabitants. Complimentary story to "So."
1. Sotto Controllo

_hey all. this is a complementary grouping of short vignettes. they go along with the events that happen in another story i'm writing, "So". while you don't have to read these to understand that story, i would certainly recommend reading "So" before reading this. each chapter will focus on one character's experiences, so don't get worked up if someone doesn't show up at all. it's a ubiquitously large cornucopia of characters; everyone will get a chance at the spotlight. _

_and if you are reading "So" already, well, you'll love these even more._

_oh, and M for language and sMut.  
_

* * *

_**Sotto Controllo **_

_What the hell is she doing?_

Ayasegawa Yumichika was sitting at his favorite bar – The Corner Bar – with his favorite drink – whiskey on the rocks – surrounded by his favorite people – Kira, Ikkaku, and Hisagi. And yet he was slightly perturbed about something.

Was it the painfully ugly musician singing painfully ugly songs on the stage at the head of the bar? While normally that would be enough to drive him to leaving, he'd gotten a substantial buzz before the fat guitar player had started singing, therefore allowing him to tolerate it.

Was it that Matsumoto and Iba weren't there? He did miss them terribly; two of his favorite drinking buddies had died in the battle over Karakura, thus spurring this group of friends out to the bar to drink in their memory.

Or perhaps it was the short, raven-haired girl that continued to inch her stool closer and closer to his. He looked over at Ikkaku. His best friend continued to make teasing glances at him and the girl who'd tagged along.

In fact, the entire table was amused over Yumichika's discomfort as Kuchiki Rukia blatantly and drunkenly tried to put the moves on him.

This was all Kira's fault; the lieutenant of the third division knew Rukia through his long-standing friendship with Abarai Renji. When the girl had learned about them going out to drown their sorrows in the bottle, she'd asked to tag along; apparently the death of Captain Ukitake had not gone over well for her. And Kira wasn't the kind of man that says no to a pretty face. Everything had been okay at the start of the night— she'd kept mostly to herself, sliding into conversations every now and then with relevant comments.

Then she flipped a switch and couldn't keep her eyes off of him.

They were talking about the battles in Karakura when they'd noticed she was flirting with him; despite the fact that it was a sore subject, they _were _members of the eleventh division and they loved to talk fighting. Besides, the four men at the table had been on the same defense-team and they had yet to talk about the details of their battles.

Except, of course, Yumichika's newly discovered abilities. That had spread around Seireitei like wildfire.

"Why didn't you tell anybody, Yumi?" Rukia was looking at him with big doe eyes, her interests obviously captured by him. He looked at her strangely. _I didn't know we were on a nicknaming basis there, Rukia. _He chalked it up to her being drunk; she _was_ a noble and had, up until this point, always acted accordingly. He took a sip from his whiskey before he—

"'Cuz he's a damn chicken-shit."

—was cut off by Ikkaku.

The bald third seat slammed back the rest of his beer, half a mug of the dark liquid vanishing down his throat before he motioned to the waitress to bring another. "He didn't want me to find out that he had a kidou-based zanpakuto," he continued as the waitress sat down the stout in front of him. "I don't know why he thought I'd care. I know he's a proficient fighter without the sissy-ass kidou."

"Like you didn't want him telling anybody about your bankai?" Kira had butted in, defending his fellow kidou-based user.

"Yeah, well. Not like that matters now. With so few captains now, it'd be selfish of me not to apply for one of their spots." Ikkaku looked into his glass distantly, as if he was remembering something. Yumichika knew about the conversation Ikkaku had with Tetsuzaemon. Before the lieutenant, their long-time friend and sparring partner, had been disemboweled by the Espada.

"Well, I knew about it," Hisagi piped up. The rest of the group looked at him questioningly, with the exceptions of Yumichika and Rukia. The fifth-seat already knew the story, while the noble girl from the thirteenth division was completely transfixed on Yumichika. Which was a fact that he'd started to notice.

"When the ryoka invaded, Yumichika and I fought. I'd completely kicked his ass while he was using his shikai's first form, but when he pulled out his kidou shit… I didn't have a chance."

"Why the fuck didn't you tell any of us?" was Ikkaku's indignant response.

"He asked me not to," Hisagi shrugged.

"Well, I think it's very attractive and brave to not fight with your true power simply out of respect for your division. And especially when you have such a great level of… power."

_What the hell?_

The table turned to look at Rukia, their eyes wide at her sudden outburst of admiration for Yumichika. Ikkaku, ever the sly fox, noticed immediately that she was drunkenly smitten with his best friend. So he decided to do what all best friends would do in this situation— attempt to get Yumichika laid.

All the while knowing that Yumichika had no desire to sleep with the Kuchiki girl.

"You're right, Rukia," Ikkaku said, devilishly leaning across the table. "Not to mention it's very selfless. I mean, what kind of man would perform such brave acts?"

"What kind?" Rukia asked in anticipation, drunkenly hypnotized by Ikkaku's speech. Her eyes were focused completely on the bald man before her.

"The best kind!"

"A gentleman and a scholar!"

Apparently, the rest of the table had caught on to Ikkaku's devious plan, as evidenced by Kira and Hisagi's interjections. Yumichika simply sank lower into his whiskey.

The night went on like this for another hour. Ikkaku had subtly convinced Rukia that Yumichika was the greatest man on the planet, while Yumichika got drunker and drunker. It wasn't that he didn't find Kuchiki attractive; he actually thought she was very beautiful. The reason why he so desperately rejected her advances was simply because Abarai Renji was completely in love with her. He didn't want to step on the poor boy like that.

Yumichika also had to pee. Very badly. But he was afraid of what his "friend" would say about him once he'd left the table. Fortunately for Yumichika, Ikkaku was drunk. And when Ikkaku drinks, he gets angry at the smallest of things. Like the guy that just bumped into his chair. Yumichika didn't have to watch to know that Ikkaku would be in a yelling match within seconds. He simply rose from his seat and darted to the bathroom.

After he'd used the facilities, Yumichika looked at himself in the mirror. _Well, I _am _rather good looking, _he drunkenly mused at his reflection, smirking and looking at his face from different angles. _Maybe Renji would simply understand that I'm far more attractive than he is and… No, no, no. I can't do this. _He reached his hands down into the sink and splashed cold water up onto his face.

_I'm not that guy._

Yumichika stepped out of the bathroom and stopped. Several tables had been flipped and there was blood on the corner of the bar. There was a man with a severe gash on his head and broken glass in his hair. Yumichika sighed when he noticed that everyone from his table was missing. Assuming that they'd been kicked out, he walked over to the bartender as he took out his wallet, his feet crunching on top of the broken glass as he went. He looked at the bartender apologetically.

"Ikkaku?"

"The one and only," the man behind the bar snickered as he handed Yumichika the bar tab for everyone at the table.

"Oh fuck off," he said as he pulled some money out of his wallet and threw it down on the bar. "If you had any idea what we go through to save your sorry ass souls, you'd buy our drinks every night." Yumichika turned away from the bar and began to walk out the door, enjoying the banter he had with the bartender every time Ikkaku got kicked out.

"I could go out of business!"

"I could die!"

Yumichika stepped out into the night and saw Rukia waiting for him; her small body leaned up against a wall, her arms crossed. He looked at her and continued to walk ahead slowly.

"I didn't want to leave you here by yourself," she said as she calmly strode over and matched his pace. "The guys went on ahead. I think Ikkaku said 'fuck that pretty boy' as he stumbled away."

"Ah."

Rukia chuckled slightly at the obviously uncomfortable shinigami next to her. "I'm not that drunk, you know," she confessed. He whirled to face her, his eyes widened inquisitively.

"Then why were you—?"

"Hitting on you? I was just having fun. I was really trying to get Kira to feel uncomfortable. I had no idea he'd jump onto Ikkaku's little tirade as quickly as he did. You gotta tell that pachinko-head that he's a terrible wingman."

"Oh." Yumichika felt slightly relieved and slightly deflated. He wasn't used to getting mercilessly hit on for an hour only for the girl to mercilessly shut him down at the end of the night. His ego, indestructible as it normally was, faltered slightly in his chest.

"So are you gonna walk me home?" Her words dredged him out of his thoughts as he looked over at her in surprise. "I mean, I'm just a small girl walking alone at night. What would I ever do if someone tried to take advantage of me?" She smirked up at him as he chuckled lightly.

"I would be glad to, Kuchiki."

They walked silently for a while, bits and pieces of conversation breaking out here and there as they approached the thirteenth division. Yumichika had kept his responses to Rukia's questionings short and to the point; Rukia, seemingly unsatisfied with this, had made every question increasingly more difficult and personal. Which culminated in the question she asked as they approached her doorstep.

"So do you _ever _get laid when Ikkaku's trying to 'help' you?" She was grinning in a feigned innocence, her hands held behind her back, knowing that Yumichika would squirm under this question.

"Uh…" Her smile widened as he fumbled for the words. "Well, I usually don't have to worry about him interfering like he did this evening. He usually isn't presented the opportunity."

"Are you trying to tell me that the girls don't swarm over you? I find that very difficult to believe, Yumichika."

"I'm afraid not, Kuchi—"

He was cut off as her mouth struck his, her lips connecting with his ferociously.

Perhaps it was the alcohol. Perhaps it was his ego regaining its former stature. Perhaps it was her one hand on the back of his neck, pulling his mouth closer to hers, while the other started undoing his belt. Whatever the reason, Ayasegawa Yumichika forgot about Abarai Renji completely as Rukia grabbed hold of him underneath his hakama.

Her gasp of surprise certainly did not dissuade him either.

She flung the door to her quarters open and swiftly dragged him inside, pulling his shirt off as she went. They didn't make it to her room; she threw him down on the couch, her hands running over his muscular torso. His hands were equally as explorative as they struggled to remove her clothes. The two shinigami were soon naked and Rukia straddled Yumichika, taking him in her hands as she slowly lowered herself into him.

She was grinding on him, her torso lowering itself so she could kiss him. Their lips pulled away and she leaned in and began nibbling his earlobe hungrily as he thrust upwards, her moans coming in soft whispers as he pushed deeper into her. She came quickly, her body tightening as she moaned. Yumichika continued, Rukia's orgasm extending with his swift hip-movements. He soon followed suit and she collapsed onto his chest as they both lay panting for air.

She kissed his neck gently, slowly working her way up to his ear. She brought her mouth up to his ear and whispered softly and seductively

"If you tell anybody about this, I'll kill you."

_What a strange and beautiful night, _Yumichika thought as her head rose from his chest and sank below his waist.

-----------------------------------

_**author's note**_

_as i said above, these go alongside my other story. they're supposed to be small and humorous glimpses into the pasts of the non-main characters; perhaps explaining why some of the characters are the way they are._

_anyhoo, all of these will have names borrowed from ennio morricone pieces. _

_italiano ftw._

_jta._


	2. I Crudeli

_**I Crudeli**_

Orihime had never been so frustrated. She'd never felt so alone. She couldn't believe that Ulquiorra had spoken to her like that, like she was some kind of fool. She'd felt Sado's reiatsu plummet, the life force of her old friend diminishing into nothing. _He can't be dead, _she'd thought. _He just can't be dead. _

Then Ulquiorra entered the room. She didn't even turn and face her keeper as he approached, her face upturned to the small window, hoping that the crescent moon of Hueco Mundo would tell her that Sado was alive, to confirm the small amount of his reiatsu she felt was real. But Ulquiorra paid this disinterest no mind as he stepped aside and allowed the servant to glide the food cart into her room.

_I would simply be filled with anger…_

He informed her that Sado had been killed, and he'd insulted her friends and would be rescuers.

_At the pathetic nature of those losers who decided to rush in here…_

He'd insulted her, called her disgusting, called her childish.

_Completely out of touch with reality and their own abilities._

And she'd slapped him.

His face remained the typical expressionless mask that he always wore as it recoiled from the attack. She looked deep into his emerald eyes hoping that she'd see some sort of emotion in them, some of the feeling she'd seen before. But he only turned and demanded that she eat. He looked back over his shoulder only once, to inform her that he would return in an hour and to issue a promise that he would force her to eat.

The solid white door closed behind him and Orihime curled into a ball against the back wall of the room, her hands held to her mouth as she wept silently. She had thought that Ulquiorra was different than the other Arrancar; she'd seen a softer side of him the first time she'd refused to eat, when he'd gently begged her to eat. The tone of his voice had shocked her when he'd asked her to eat that night. It was gentle and fearful and almost maternal. She looked up in surprise at him, his eyes slightly softened from their typical deadpan. He'd held out a piece of food to her and she'd tentatively taken it. He fed her like this for five minutes before he'd stood to leave. But she'd grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to her, burying her face into his white jacket as she cried. He didn't move for a while, but eventually brought his arm around her shoulders.

But she'd not seen that side of the Espada for some time now. Since he'd let her cry in his arms, he'd been particularly cold towards her. And now he'd come in here to chide her for hoping that her friends could save her. _Why would he talk to me like that?_

She sat weeping for almost the entire hour when her head had snapped up sharply. She didn't want to be weak like this. She didn't want to be saved or helped. She wanted to take a stand and be strong. She wanted to prove to herself that she was not helpless. So when the door to her room began to open, she stood defiantly by the tray of food Ulquiorra had left for her. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, staring at her blankly. His gaze shifted from her to the food. His eyes closed slowly as he let out a soft sigh and approached her.

"Did you assume that I was bluffing, woman?" he asked as he walked, his voice as lifeless as always. She felt a small tremor of fear run up her spine as he approached her. "Because I can assure that I spoke in complete candor when I threatened to restrain you." She glared at him as he spoke, the fear building inside her chest causing her lips to quiver slightly. _I'll be brave, _she chanted as her heart raced in her chest. _I can fight back. I'll be brave. I can fight back._

He removed a hand from his pocket and reached over to the food. He grabbed a cold piece of bread and brought it up to her mouth. The last time he'd done this, Orihime had taken it directly from his hand with her mouth, her tongue sliding lightly against his thumb. She hadn't meant to do that, but the action had nonetheless aroused her. But this time she wasn't succumbing to her weaknesses. This time she was fighting back.

She slapped his hand away from her face, sending the roll flying across the room. His expression did not change as she glared at him. He reached back over to the cart to grab another item. But before his hand at reached the food, she'd kicked the cart onto the floor, scattering the meal across the white floor of her room. He looked slightly irritated, but walked over to the pile of food and picked up a piece of chicken. As he came back over to her, she hoped he could not sense the fear that was welling inside of her. She only wished for him to see the defiance that she was so desperately struggling to keep her hold on.

His hand shot out quickly, cuffing her wrists together. He brought the food up to her mouth but she struggled against him, turning her head sideways in an effort to avoid the piece of meat he was attempting to force into her mouth. He caught the side of her face with his wrist and pushed her cheek so that she was facing him. He once again approached with the chicken and she pulled her head backwards to avoid the food. But the sudden jerking motion caused her to lose her balance and she fell backwards onto the couch, dragging Ulquiorra on top of her. He used the gained momentum to pin her still captive wrists above her head. Because of the couch, he had to straddle above her as she tried once more to escape his grip.

Her hips wriggled against him, her eyes glared angrily at his, her chest heaved up and down as he calmly looked down at her. She knew she was not going to win this struggle. He had complete control over her; the next time he brought the food to her mouth, she would take it calmly. But he did not place the chicken against her lips. Instead he leaned down and kissed her.

Her eyes shot open in surprise; his kiss was cool but gentle, his two lips caging her upper lip between them. She wanted to kick him, to scream out in anger, but she was completely overwhelmed by him as he released her wrist and cupped her cheek with his hand. She soon found herself returning the kiss, deepening it as she opened her mouth and slid her tongue out and against his. She reached upwards with her arms and wrapped them around his neck as she pulled his body closer to hers.

His hips lowered against hers and she found herself slowly grinding against the touch. Her hand reached down and grabbed his ass, pushing him into her deliberate movements. His hand trailed downward from her neck and onto her breasts, pulling the zipper from her collar as he went. She reached up with her free hand and returned the favor, her fingers finding the small zipper that started at his throat. She pulled it down slowly, her eyes widening as his lean body was revealed to her wanting eyes. She slid his jacket over his shoulders and gasped slightly.

_Fourth? Ulquiorra's not the top Espada? But how…_

Her train of thought was cut off as he began kissing her neck and pulling her shirt off. His movements were deliberate and powerful; his hands took what they wanted, his hips moved in ways that drove her mad. As he began sliding her pants off, she thought about the last time she'd had sex. It was her first time and it had been a mistake; she was lonely and he'd been there for her during the moment of weakness. She missed her brother and simply needed someone to be close to. So when she'd kissed Keigo, the youthful naivety she possessed overtook her senses as she regretfully lost her virginity.

But now she was writhing in pleasure as he thrust inside of her. She clawed at his back while her legs wrapped around his waist. She moaned loudly as she quickly came under his expert touch. He stopped briefly to look at her; she was panting heavily after her orgasm, her cheeks red and flushed, but she thrust her hips upwards into his, her eyes begging for more. He silently obliged as he continued pumping into her, her pleasured cries being the only sound to fill the desolately empty room. He came silently; she could feel him thrust one last time as his body shuddered in pleasure.

He looked down at her, his green eyes saying nothing as they gazed at her brown irises. He leaned down and kissed her gently before standing and dressing himself. He gently handed her the clothing that he'd thrown onto the floor before he placed his hands back in their pockets, turned away from her, and strode towards the door. But when he reached the exit of the room, he turned back to her once more, a faint grin playing on his lips that cause Orihime to smile brightly.

"I will return shortly with food that hasn't been on the floor," he said flatly, Orihime detecting the slightest note of pleasure in his voice. "Do you have any requests?"

"Uhm," she stuttered as the juniper-eyed Espada looked at her. His inviting gaze caused her to blush slightly, her head tilting downwards as she meekly responded. "Toast with sardines and apricot jam would be nice." She flashed him a sheepish smile as his eyes widened in what could have been the strongest showcasing of confusion he'd ever allowed.

But then he smiled faintly. "I will see what I can do, woman."

He left the room, leaving Orihime to grin brightly as she lay back on the couch.

---------------------------

_author's note_

_oh, the ulquihime ship has set sail. let the fans rejoice. normally i would let this dead horse stay dead, but hell. i wanted to give it a shot. and ulquiorra just made dramatic his return in my other story, so i figured now would be as good a time as any to write this chapter._

_rrrrrrrrrrrrreview. you don't even have to say anything nice. do it anyways._

_jta._


	3. Alla Serenità

_**Alla Serenità**_

He rose from the bed and walked over to the window, his bare chest glowing in the moonlight. From this room, he could see the whole division— _his _division. He was still a bit shocked at his promotion to captain. Despite the fact that he'd had a bankai, he'd only been a lieutenant for three years. He'd never heard of someone becoming a captain in such short time.

Not that he would complain; he'd always known he would reach captain one day. Ever since the day he decided to become a shinigami, he'd known that he was destined for greatness. And despite the propensity one might have for an increased sense of self-elevation, he thought this with the utmost modesty. The fact is, the idea had only been further drilled into his head since he began the academy.

And now here he was, on the eve of his first day as a captain. The rest of the captains and lieutenants had thrown a small gathering; more of a shin-dig than a gala, but close enough to a commemoration to warrant a less than casual atmosphere. He'd enjoyed himself, enjoyed speaking with the other captains on the level of colleagues instead of superior/subordinate. His own former captain, Kyoraku Shunsui was extremely elated to see him promoted. He felt it had more to do with allowing third seat Ise Nanao the opportunity to become Kyoraku's lieutenant than with his actual advancement. But Shunsui had quickly become drunk and embarrassed himself, mandating the assistance of a far more sober Ukitake Juushiro.

A small moan escaped from the bed behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman in the bed behind him. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he recalled what had happened.

She had been drunk. Well, by that time in the night, they'd all been drunk. But she'd been, in her own words, "celebrating twice as much as everyone else". She was toasting to her old friend; one of the people she held dearest in the world had been promoted to captain and she was happy about it, dammit. And on top of that, said friend had pulled her from her post as fourth-seat in the sixth division and appointed her as his new lieutenant. Therefore, to once again quote the ecstatic lieutenant, "I'm drinking for two occasions at once!"

They'd walked back to their new division together; she'd leaned on him most of the way, her large bosoms weighing him down as he tried his best to stumble back to his quarters. He grumbled the entire way from the first division as he felt her fall further and further into sleep. By the time they'd reached his quarters, she'd been completely asleep, her feet dragging along the ground as he pulled her on his shoulders. He'd made it to his room and tossed her onto his bed. She didn't speak the entire time he'd readied himself for bed, brushing his teeth and setting the couch up for sleep. He was letting her retire in his bed, despite the fact that he'd never even slept there himself. He strode into his room one last time, checking the time before he would close the door behind him, leaving his old friend to sleep peacefully until their first morning as captain and lieutenant.

She grabbed him by the arms and pulled him down into the bed with her.

"Ran…" he'd tried to protest, but he was cut off as she placed her lips against his.

"I've been waiting so long for this," she said dreamily, her hand running through his silver hair. "Ever since you became lieutenant, I've wanted you."

They'd had sex three times before she'd been satisfied enough to sleep. And despite her ability to fall immediately into unconsciousness, he'd laid awake with her head resting firmly on his chest. How could anyone sleep after that? The images of her large and firm breasts bouncing as she rode on him, the memory of her face twisting in pleasure as she came for the fourth time, the sight of her lips parting to take him in her mouth. He was positive it would be at least an hour before he'd feel himself grow sleepy.

This certainly wasn't his first time; in his extremely short stay in the academy, he'd had his way with plenty of the female students. His look was intriguing and his reputation was like an aphrodisiac. If any of the girls in his class had too much to drink, they'd find their way to his room by the end of the night.

But his mind kept wandering back to the day he'd met Matsumoto Rangiku; one them a hungry child on the streets of Rukongai dressed in grey rags, the other a young shinigami in a black kimono with a zanpakuto. He'd always thought she was beautiful, even on that day so long ago. And now she was in his bed, snoring softly and contently on his chest. So it was all he could do to remember and stare at the ceiling until she turned her head off of his chest.

So he rolled gently off the bed and strode to his window. He stood there for what felt like forever, slowly casting his gaze over his new division. He was irritated at his lack of sleep, knowing he'd need it in the morning. And Rangiku wasn't helping. He still felt slightly apprehensive at the thought of addressing the division in the morning; he'd been labeled as a prodigy for so long that the awe of it had long ago become lackluster. Now he was ridiculed by many of the other shinigami, especially by the older ones who felt that they were long over-due for a promotion of their own. But he did have his supporters, and popular ones at that. His two former captains, Kyoraku Shunsui and Aizen Sousuke, were both very well liked throughout the whole of soul society, and both vocally boasted about his abilities. In fact, Captain Aizen gave an un-characteristically lengthy toast at the party earlier this evening.

Now he had the well liked Matsumoto Rangiku by his side. And as long as she remained there, he felt like he could conquer the world.

She stirred in the bed behind him and he turned to rejoin her under the sheets. He had grown sleepy in his thoughts at the window pane, his eyes closing immediately as his head hit the pillow. He quickly began to drift away when he felt her fingertips glide their way down his stomach to grab him under the sheets. Despite his desire for sleep, he immediately grew hard at her touch. She was going to keep him awake.

"So," she whispered seductively in his ear, "I guess you're up, Captain?"

"_Matsumoto_," Hitsugaya Toshirou sighed in slight irritation as she slid on top of him, upset that his lieutenant was already causing him trouble.

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_author's note_

_if you haven't read chapter 336, spoilers ahead._

****

_the last manga chapter inspired this one. i'm not really a huge fan of matsumoto, but seeing allon practically rip her in half completely shocked me. so out of her memory, cuz she's probably gonna be the first real good-guy death, i wrote her into this one. (not that i hope she dies, but it would be ridiculous if she could survive an attack like that.)_

_anyhoo, next chapter of "so" should be out later this week, after i finish a shit-tonne of homework. keep it real, kiddies._

_jta!~_


	4. Ninna Nanna Per Adulti

_**Ninna Nanna Per Adulti**_

He was more nervous than he'd ever been in his entire life. He'd been away for so long— he hadn't seen his surrogate home for almost eleven years.

And he hadn't seen _her_ in nearly fifteen.

Urahara Kisuke strolled through the streets of Karakura town, his eyes hidden under the green and white hat he'd purchased from a street-vendor that morning. He was never much one for headwear, but the bucket hat was perfect for hiding his inquisitive gaze. He didn't want the people on these streets to realize that he was extremely interested in the destroyed city.

He stepped around a large pile of rubble that poured out of a nearby building and into the street he was walking down. Japan had not fared well in his absence. He couldn't help but feel smug as he thought over the news reports he'd read over the past four years— he knew that the empire would fall once the United States turned their attention to it. Urahara tried his best to stay in his proxy homestead, but when he'd heard about the bombing of Pearl Harbor, he knew that it was time to flee the island nation.

Tessai decided to stay in the country, disappointing Kisuke slightly when his offer for companionship was turned down. Yoruichi had already disappeared five years earlier; he had always joked about her ability to sense upcoming danger, and her early departure from Japan only served to strengthen his belief. When the empire attacked China before the Second World War had even begun proper, the former second division captain had approached her long time friend and expressed her desire to leave. He let her go, proclaiming that he wanted to ride it out as long as he could. She hugged him and, with a small kiss on the cheek, she flash-stepped out of his life.

And until yesterday's mail, she'd remained only a memory.

Urahara Kisuke had stayed in several countries during the Allie's occupation of Japan—Brazil, India, Tunisia. When the letter finally reached him, he was in South Africa, sharing a drink with another exiled shinigami captain. The waiter had brought it over to the table, smugly dropping the thin parcel in front of him. Urahara had turned the white envelope over and over in his hands, wondering who it could be from. Initially he would have assumed it was from one of the other shinigami that had escaped into the real world nearly fifty years ago. But after meeting Kurosaki Isshin in the material world, he couldn't be certain as to whom he could run into. He tore open the sealed letter and his jaw hung open as he began to read, his eyes immediately recognizing the smooth handwriting:

_Kisuke,_

_You certainly are a difficult one to track! I've been looking high and low for you since the U.S. dropped the bombs and I find you in Johannesburg? You never fail to amuse me, boy._

_The Allied forces have left Karakura. Tessai has managed to keep our little spot in one piece, so I'm heading back to Japan. It would be wonderful to see you again._

_Sincerely,_

_Yoruichi._

_P.S. _

_I ran into Hirako in Manitoba. He says hello._

Kisuke hadn't even finished the letter before he stood up from the table he was sitting at with Isshin. After a brief explanation, he left the other shinigami to pay the bill as he strode out of the country.

And here he was, standing in front of a small, and miraculously unscathed, store in the middle of Karakura town. He could feel his hands trembling slightly as he approached the front door; he couldn't tell if it was nerves or excitement that kept his warrior's fists from achieving their usual calm, but he knew that he was happy. He'd grown up with Yoruichi always by his side and the past fifteen years had been utter torture for him— she'd been his only true friend since he was a boy and without the usual closeness, he'd felt lost. As he reached out and opened the door to the tiny shop, he felt the blood rush from his face.

There she was.

Her golden eyes lit up as he stepped through the doorframe, her gorgeous white grin streaking across her mouth as she stood and ran to him like a child welcoming her father home from a long business trip. He could only stand dumbfounded as her lithe form slid gracefully across the room to him. Had she always been so beautiful? Why had he never noticed that his childhood companion was this sexy, caramel-skinned woman? Had the past fifteen years changed her? Sure her hair had grown out a little, but she otherwise looked the same as she always had.

Except drop-dead gorgeous.

She wrapped her arms around his neck with a squeal. Still in his state of shock, it took Urahara a moment to react and place his own arms around the thin waist of his fellow exile. He buried his face in her neck, enjoying the warmth of her dark skin on his cheeks and the smell of her hair in his nostrils. He felt her arms tighten around him and her breathing quickened, her breasts heaving up and down against his chest.

After almost a full minute, they pulled away from one another, his light green eyes looking deeply into hers. She wore a subtle expression of amusement on her face as she returned his gaze, her grin turning slightly devious as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

His mind exploded into white as his arms took control, spreading themselves across her back. He was so completely taken aback by her kiss that he hardly noticed when his left hand began to cup her firm ass and his right palm took up residence on her jaw. He deepened the kiss as he pressed his body against hers, pushing her back against the nearest wall. Her hands were just as explorative, her nimble fingertips running along his chest and stomach.

Yoruichi grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him towards the bedroom, his hands tugging at her clothes as they went. He pulled her shirt over her head and pushed her gently onto the bed, admiring the look of her naked torso in the early morning sunlight. He took off his own shirt, smirking as her eyes danced over his chest. He leaned down and pulled her pants down, revealing a small white thong. He chuckled softly as he saw it.

"What's funny?" she asked as she began undoing his belt.

"I've always wanted to see the whole thing," he said, leaning down and kissing a trail along her stomach. "That was always my favorite part of your Special Ops uniform."

She snickered at him, her hands resting on the back of his neck as his line of kisses began to sink lower on her abdomen. "Well I must say this, Kisuke," she said softly as his lips reached the edge of her white panties, "while you normally have terrible fashion sense, I really think this hat looks good on you."

"Really?" his head jerked up from her lap, his soon to be busy mouth parted in a sheepish grin. He took the green and white bucket-hat from his head and looked at it with a bemused face. He'd thought it looked ridiculous. She chuckled at the childish expression on his face and leaned in to kiss him.

"Yes. Green really brings out your eyes."

"Maybe I'll keep the stupid thing, then."

"I think you should," she said before kissing him once more. He returned the kiss, but ended it abruptly. She pouted slightly before he pressed his finger to her soft lips.

"Stop talking, Miss Shihouin," he said with a smile. "I'm trying to do something here." His head once more dipped down past her flat stomach.

"Since when did you start bossing me aro—" her words quickly turned into a sharp gasp as her white thong was removed with his teeth.

----------------

_**author's note**_

_hey! it's been a while i know! sorry for the delay in updates, but it's been a hell of a month. i hope everyone had a wonderful december._

_i realize that this chapter wasn't very smutty, but kisuke and yoruichi seems... i don't know. i just think they are so tragically romantic, it seems out of place to have them fucking like bunnies._

_the thought of what the exiled shinigami did during WWII had always tickled the back of my mind, so i decided to tell it with my two favorite exiles._

_if any of you are following "so", i again apologize for the lack of updates. but don't worry! i should have the next chapter up after the weekend._

_keepin' it real,_

_jta_


	5. Il Tremanto

_**Il Tremanto**_

He hated her so much when she did this kind of shit— when she followed him around to "rescue" him when he didn't need to be rescued. He'd had the entire situation under his control; just because he'd been caught off guard by the _cero _of that _adjuchas _didn't mean he needed her to jump in and help. He hated when she thought he was weaker than her. He hated her pity. Hated how she would never understand how much it hurt him

But Nnoitra Jiruga hated Neliel tu Oderschvank the most when she just walked away from him.

Nnoitra slowly stood up and followed the tracks of the third Espada across the desert of _Hueco Mundo _toward the looming silhouette of the palace _Las Noches. _He had laid back in the white sand for a while after she'd departed, letting his seething anger simmer a little as he looked up at the ever-present crescent moon that adorned the opaque and starless eternal night sky above him. He wasn't surprised to see that Neliel had long since vanished over the horizon; it was near dinner time and she was always eager for the chance to eat.

Despite the time he'd allotted himself to cool off, he was still angered by the green-haired Arrancar. He was so fucking outraged that she constantly thought he needed protection, that needed someone to watch his back. He was an _Espada _now, for fuck's sake. He'd even been promoted to the rank of _Octava _past the three already present members, effectively demoting Aaroniero and Yammy, and knocking that weakling Szayel-Aporro out of the Espada altogether.

Nnoitra may not have liked Aizen Sousuke very much, but the man knew how to judge strength. For the most part, at least. Nnoitra still felt that he was a numbers too low. _Segundo _sounded far more appropriate to his ears.

He strode up to the front gate of _Las Noches_, glancing up at the top of the precipice and thinking the same thought he always did when he saw the colossal wall— _Damn, it would be fun to throw someone down from there. _He had no idea why he harbored such an odd fantasy, but since he'd first seen the massive palace, he'd wanted to hurl an opponent over the edge and out into the desert. He sighed and lowered his gaze from the large drop.

Walking through the labyrinth of corridors and hallways, Nnoirta finally made his way into the Espada pavilion, the perpetual but artificial sunlight shining down on the red and silver towers that jutted up from the ground. He squinted his already small eye as his face hit the sunlight, his foul mood becoming putrid at the harsh light. _The least the fuckers could do is turn it off at night. Not all of us can sleep through it like that bitch Neliel._

As he approached the large cylindrical tower that signified his quarters, the thought of _her _made his anger boil to the point of fury and he stopped suddenly. He turned and began striding towards the higher ranked Espada's towers. The insult Neliel had done that day was too much for him to bear any longer. He was going to show her that he was stronger than her. And he would show her by force.

He approached her quarters, his massive crescent-shaped axe carving a small gash into the tiles as it was dragged along behind its owner. He came to her entrance, kicked it open, and marched through the ruined doorframe. The third Espada jumped up from the chair she was formerly occupying as she glared at her fellow Arrancar, her hand on her zanpakuto.

"Nnoitra? What are you doing--?" Her words were cut off as the lanky man before her snapped his hand out and clasped her by the throat, shoving her up against the nearest wall. He glowered into her olive-colored eyes as he held her against the wall by her neck, her feet forced onto their toes as his taller from towered over her.

His face lurched forward as his mouth met hers with a painful ferocity, the enamel of their teeth clashing together with a loud click. His grip loosened on her throat as it slid down over her collar bone and onto her ample breasts. Neliel took this opportunity to punch Nnoitra in the gut. The taller man staggered back slightly, but quickly stepped forward and forced himself upon her once more. After a brief struggle, she soon gave in and began feverously returning his kiss.

It was the way he fought back.

Neliel was physically stronger than Nnoitra, but he more than overpowered her sexually. From the moment he'd been "born" as an Arrancar under Aizen, she'd desired him. And he'd always known it. But he was always consumed with making himself stronger and faster and more powerful— he'd never taken the time to care about the female Espada, much less act upon her yearnings for him.

Until the first time he'd tried to fight against her. He'd purposefully picked a fight with the young woman; armed with the knowledge that she desired him, he knew that she'd be upset about him challenging her out of the blue, about him using her. He wanted to be an Espada, dammit. What better way to prove his abilities than to whoop the ass of the third highest member?

He'd met her in the courtyard outside of the Espada compound, his large zanpakuto slung over his shoulder as he waited for her to remover hers from its sheathe. But Neliel simply glanced at his blade and continued past him.

"Do you think standing there like you are makes you menacing," she said as she walked by, "Nnoitra?"

She'd continued on until she'd made her way to the large door that marked the entrance of her home. She turned and looked at his fuming face and smirked. He could never rationalize why he did what he did, but he'd used _sonido _to appear directly in front of her. He had intended to punch her, to drive his fist through her. But instead he'd kissed her angrily while she'd pulled him inside the door.

And such was the ebb and flow of the two Espada.

Neliel grabbed at Nnoitra's oblong lapels and pulled him towards her as she walked backwards into her room. She clawed at his clothing, trying frantically to remove them; his long fingers had already expertly loosened up the clasps of her white uniform, the puffy sleeves sliding down around her shoulders and biceps. He pushed her back onto the bed and shot her a look of annoyance as he resigned to disrobing himself. While she was an extremely powerful combatant, Neliel tu Oderschvank was painfully awkward at sex. Even after being with Nnoitra dozens of times, she still couldn't figure out how to quickly remove his uniform.

After disrobing, Nnoitra slid on top of the green-haired espada, his long tongue slithering a line down her collarbone to her breasts. His tongue began circling her left nipple before he took it into his mouth, bighting down with his long white teeth. He heard Neliel inhale sharply above him at the pain of the snap, making him smile widely as he began moved to her right breast to repeat the action. Once more his tongue slipped out of his mouth, this time garnering a small chuckle from his intended victim.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" he asked indignantly, his good eye glaring up from her chest.

"_That's _where Aizen put your tattoo?" she blurted out between giggles.

"Shut the fuck up!" he responded angrily, his purple iris shrinking in irritation. "At least it doesn't take up my whole fucking back!"

"Oh shut up, Nnoitra. I think it's cute."

"Cute? What the _fuck _is—" his words were cut off as she flipped him over and lowered herself onto him, her hips swaying and grinding against his as she began to moan loudly. He never understood her when she said shit like that. '_I think this looks good, on you.' _He'd long grown sick of the way she did that; not because of the silly way she made her comments, but because he would normally follow her suggestions. She'd told him that his hair would look better long, so he'd started growing it out. She told him to wear an eye patch over his hollow-hole, and he had one on the next day. He never understood why he did what she said, and it pissed him off.

His mind ceased its wandering as she quickened her pace atop him, placing her hands on his chest so she could make more of an up and down motion. Her moans began growing louder as she bounced above him. He could feel her legs begin to quiver as she moved, the muscles in her body reacting to, and tightening with, the pleasure of her oncoming orgasm.

Before she could come, however, Nnoitra snickered and flipped her off of him and onto her back. She looked up at his arrogant grin in disappointment as he began thrusting into her. But her displeasure soon melted away as her eyes rolled back into her head. Once more Nnoitra could feel her impending orgasm, and once more he stopped when she'd reached the threshold.

It was his way of torturing her, and he was extremely good at it.

A small whimper escaped from her throat, despite her eyes still being closed and her head remaining tilted back in pleasure. Nnoitra held onto the moment a tad longer; his eye swept over her body as it heaved up and down with her breaths. Despite his extreme hate for Neliel, he _really _enjoyed fucking her.

They continued for nearly an hour before Nnoitra finally allowed his victim to orgasm, himself quickly following. He fell forward as she rolled onto her back, both of them panting for air. She slid over and cuddled up against him, nestling her head into his chest. Another thing he didn't understand about Neliel— she always wanted to be close to him after they were done fucking. He couldn't fathom why; they were both hot and sweaty. Why would she so desire to touch him? But he let it slide as he always did, simply enjoying the feel of release, the feel of his victory over her.

After a moment, he slid off the bed with a slight groan. Neliel had obviously been dosing off; she sat up and groggily watched as he slid his white pants back on.

"Where are you going?" the tone of disappointment was not the least bit concealed.

"Aizen's got me and that pink-haired fairy on a mission tonight," Nnoitra responded, trying to ignore the pleading tone that had tinged her voice. "He thinks he's found a Vasto Lorde."

"Oh," came her soft reply, her eyes looking down at the bed as he finished lacing his tall boots and reached for his shirt. She didn't say anything else as he finished dressing himself. He grabbed his axe and began to wordlessly walk out the door.

"Be careful, Nnoitra."

He almost thought he'd imagined it. Why would she say that? Why the fuck would she say that to _him?_

"Why do you think I can't take care of myself, Neliel?" he spat out angrily. "Why the fuck do you think I should be careful, huh? Because you aren't gonna be there to watch my back?!"

"It's not that, Nnoi—" she began before he cut her off.

"Then what the fuck is it, Nel? Why can't I just go out on a mission without you worrying about me? I _know _I'm weaker than you, alright? You don't have to fucking say it every fucking time you see me!"

"It's not like that!" she cried, her voice starting to break slightly. "It's just that I…" She stopped and looked at the angry face of Nnoitra Jiruga before her. "…You wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't understand?" He was speechless. Now what? She thought he was stupid, too? He spun around angrily. "Fuck you."

He stormed out of the room, pissed off that he was leaving his "stress relief" session more pissed off than when he'd started it. _How dare she treat me like some kind of child. I can fucking take care of myself, for fuck's sake._

Nnoitra rounded a corner to see the creepy but ever-present grin of Szayel-Aporro Granz. The former Espada shot an amused look at his disgruntled associate before chuckling under his breath.

"What on earth could have you so riled up, Nnoitra?" He asked as the _Octava _strode past him in irritation, Szayel-Aporro quickly following.

"That fucking bitch Neliel." The axe-wielding Espada grumbled, more to himself than his fellow Arrancar. Szayel-Aporro stopped in his tracks, a look of surprise gripping his features. He soon resumed his stride as a devious grin slid across his face.

"Oh, really?"

----------------------

**_author's note_**

_i know they aren't shinigami, but sue me. the end of episode 202 really hit me in a good way; made me think that nel really cared for nnoitra, but he was too stubborn to realize it. this is what came out. _

_i guess that's about it for this one. review plz!_

_jta_


	6. l'Arena

_**l'Arena**_

She breathed heavily as she moved on top of him, her hips grinding against his pelvis. He pushed back against her, his hands sliding across her thin hips and grabbing onto her ass. She moaned in pleasure at his touch, pushing herself further down upon him. The action caused him to react with his lower body, thrusting upwards and deeper into her.

Soi Fon leaned down and kissed him passionately, enjoying the feel of his tongue against hers as she continued to wriggle above him. She rolled away and lay next to him, her smaller hands tugging at him to roll on top of her. With a slight sigh, he obliged and they resumed making love under the cold moon of Soul Society.

After a few minutes longer, they came together— Soi Fon gasping quietly as her nails gently dug into his back. He rolled off of her as she rolled back over to him, resting her head on his muscular chest. Her hand reached up as she gently began tracing a scar that ran along his torso, chuckling slightly as he squirmed under her touch. She could never control herself.

Hisagi Shuuhei was very ticklish.

"Come on, you dummy," he said as she continued to softly graze his skin with her fingertip. "That's not as funny to me as it is to you."

"You're so nice, Shuuhei.," she said dryly as he grabbed her wrist playfully. "I love the pet-names you give me."

"You deserve 'em."

"Sure I do."

She really loved Hisagi. She had for a while now. Every time they were together, she felt euphoric and giddy. She felt happier than she'd ever had. In the past fifty years, at least. She'd kept mostly to herself after Yoruichi had left. But then she'd met Hisagi and everything had changed. She had great sex, good conversation, and someone to love. And he loved her too, and he would tell her so every night.

That's where things got complicated.

While she loved him, she feared the act of actually saying it. Perhaps it was that she'd never truly loved anyone before, romantically at least. She'd loved her family— well, as much as she could love the group of people that she'd abandoned for her service. And she'd loved Yoruichi. But this was different. She _really _loved Shuuhei.

But something always stopped her from returning the three small words that he would say to her.

Perhaps it was because of her love for Yoruichi that she so avoided the phrase. She could easily find the blame in her former mentor's disappearance. Soi Fon wasn't so naïve that she could be blind to the emotional after-effects that her mentor's abandonment could cause. But Soi prided herself on being better than that. On being stronger than that.

Yet the irrational fear remained, always blockading the words in her mouth, no matter how desperate she was for them to leave it.

And how she felt for him. She knew how crushed he was every time he would say it and she could only answer dumbly, spouting silly little phrases like, "_I know." _She cursed that phrase, how it was always her go-to line when she would respond. She thought it sounded like a line from a movie or something.

But even worse were the times that she would say nothing at all, her mouth remaining shut as she felt his desire for her to speak burning into her chest.

"Why the serious face, Soi?" he asked as he began to kiss her neck. "You look like you're trying to make Captain Komamura's helmet fall off with your mind."

She chuckled at his joke, despite the sour feeling that was rising in her gut. She knew he would say it soon; he would always start in with the little jokes and kisses before he said the phrase. It was a tell-tale sign, almost as if he were trying to lighten her up before he attempted to once more drag the desired response out of her.

She hated that the most. The feeling of the two of them circling one another like gladiators in a great coliseum, each one waiting for the other to stumble to the arena floor in defeat. And as she lay in his arms, a lump forming in her throat, she knew that she would be the winner yet again.

"I love you."

The way he said it was almost a question, the inflection turning upwards ever so slightly in the last syllable of the phrase. She turned and looked at him, feeling the pain in her chest as he gazed into her eyes.

_I love you. _

_I love you, Shuuhei._

_I love you I love you_ _I love you._

"I know."

His eyes dropped slightly at her words, the disappointment evident in them. She knew that he was no longer disappointed at her response, but at himself for hoping it would change. He leaned in, kissed her on the forehead, and whispered a quick 'goodnight' before he rolled away from her, his body no longer touching hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but slowly closed it when nothing came out.

Soi Fon rolled on to her side as well, facing the opposite direction of her lover. She knew that tomorrow morning they'd wake up, somehow finding each other's arms in their sleep. She would go the day, ignoring the third-seat of the ninth division as she always did. But after dinner he would appear at her door and they would do it all over again. Only tomorrow, she would wake up in his arms and try to once more tell him what he wanted to hear. Try to tell him how much she loved him.

The next morning, Soi Fon woke up alone.

----------------------------

_**author's note**_

_after writing the latest chapter of **so**,i couldn't help but write out the story between soi and hisagi. i was really enjoying how they were being friendly to one another, and i wanted to explain why. i think this helps tie in the animosity they have towards one another earlier, as well as when shuuhei is worried about soi after she gets hurt. _

_if you have _**no idea** _what i'm talking about, hit up my main story. you'll probably like it. i do._

_rags to bitches,_

_jaso~!_


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